


Calad-nathron

by Doranwen



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 14:43:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7467360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doranwen/pseuds/Doranwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I mean to give him the light of the Two Trees."</p><p>"That is no small undertaking."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calad-nathron

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zdenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/gifts).



> Thanks go to thedevilchicken for the last-minute beta help. She turned the product of my late night half-asleep fic-writing attempt into something passably good. :)

Galadriel lay awake, gazing at the stars as she pondered the mortals slumbering far below and a short distance away. Celeborn's breathing next to her was soft, but she did not need to listen to it to know that he was awake.

"What did you see in them?" he asked her finally.

"Many things," she said, as she examined the memories. "Beyond grief for Gandalf, there is much confusion in their minds, and they are in great need of rest for body and soul. I deem it will not be until Coirë that they could set out again."

An insect buzzed in the silence before Celeborn spoke again. "They are ill-provisioned. And I would give them gifts to aid them in their quest, beyond the much-needed food."

"I, too, have been thinking of gifts. Aragorn has a sword but no sheath to suit it, and I would leave it to you to choose something for Legolas and the younger hobbits."

"You have something in mind for Frodo," Celeborn said. The ages spent at her side had given him no little ability to hear what she did not say.

"Yes. I foresee that he will yet encounter much darkness. His spirit is strong, but sometimes more than spirit is needed."

Celeborn waited patiently for her to continue.

"I mean to give him the light of the Two Trees." She had no doubt that he would understand what she meant, and could almost see him raise an eyebrow as she spoke.

"That is no small undertaking."

"It may take awhile," she admitted.

* * *

The next day Galadriel spent some time in the workshops, examining glass vessels of many shapes and sizes. At long last she selected one particularly beautiful yet small flask, carrying it to her own workshop. One of her maidens, an elleth named Merilin, glanced up from her weaving as Galadriel entered.

"Is it for one of the Fellowship, Lady?" she asked.

Galadriel smiled at her. Merilin had served Galadriel for many _yéni_ , with great devotion and loyalty—and a streak of curiosity that manifested itself in questions when others would be silent. "It is. I will fill it with light."

"To light up the dark places where they must go."

"Indeed."

* * *

That evening she went to her fountain, but chose not to look into the water. She had foreseen enough—and too little—but more gazing would not help this task. She readied her mind and began to prepare a mental loom. When Melian had taught her to weave, so long ago, she had worked with many fabrics, from silk to plant material, but light was not one of them. She was sure one **could** weave with light, but her confidence was borne of theory alone.

Her first attempt yielded thin glowing wisps which quickly faded. She tried adjusting the method of gathering the strands, but they seemed to unravel as soon as she touched them. Undaunted, she let them go, mulling over her next approach as she lay down to sleep.

* * *

The next several evenings were much of the same. Despite every preparation and careful step, the light eluded her. She found her mind growing weary at the repeated efforts. Celeborn met her at the door as she came in after another failed attempt, a look of concern on his face.

"Your mind tires from your labors," he said. "Perhaps some time apart from the task?"

So she found herself joining her maidens in weaving the cloaks for the Company. The physical act of weaving was something of a relief after all the mental work. While the others chatted lightly, her mind was lost in thought. What was she missing?

* * *

A week had passed, and she paused from the weaving to stroll by the Celebrant. As she watched the water flowing over the stones with musical tones, her mind once again saw the weaving problem, but this time the water replaced the light in her mind. That's it! she thought. How had the similarities between light and water escaped her mind when attempting this?

As soon as it grew evening, she returned to the fountain. This time, however, she allowed herself to face the water. She turned her face to the star, recalling the light of the Two Trees as she had seen it so many _yéni_ ago. The light shone again on both mind and body, as she concentrated. She drew it into the fountain, weaving till the whole fountain glowed, and slowly, carefully, pulled out a little to place in the phial. She had only got a small portion of it settled and the stopper on when she realized the sky was beginning to grow light. She released the light of the fountain and watched it chase the star.

"You have been hard at work," Celeborn commented when she entered their chambers at daybreak.

"I did not notice time passing. It has been a very long time since I was that absorbed in my work."

"There has been progress," he observed with a smile.

"Yes," she said. "I found the key." She smiled back.

* * *

Night by night she wove the light, wrapping it around itself inside the phial. The brilliance of the light required it to be concealed when she was not actively working on it; a scrap of the fabric used for the Company's new cloaks served nicely. At last, she examined it and was satisfied.

Celeborn matched her smile as she met him outside their chamber. "You have done it."

"Yes. I believe it has some power against darkness, though what exactly I do not know. Frodo will find out." She lifted the edges of the cloth away to allow him a view of the phial.

He nodded, then as she revealed it, gazed in wonder as rays of white streamed from it. "This is truly a treasure. You have done no mean thing."

"I foresee he will have need of it."

She wrapped the cloth around it and gently laid it on a table with some of her other completed projects. "I will rest now," she said as they went inside together.

Her heart was filled with foreboding, but also satisfaction. Her uncle's creations had caused grief untold and death to many; her wish was that hers would bring hope to the one being in whose small hands lay the fate of all Middle-earth.

**Author's Note:**

> The title was my best attempt at Sindarin translation from looking at the dictionary. Sadly, I am not fluent enough to know if this is completely accurate or if I've missed something grammatical. I am open to changing it to fix my lack of Sindarin skills, should such a mistake be found.


End file.
